Life in color
by vintagevixenx
Summary: When a soc decides to mend her brother's death by having sex with a hood, will things turn out like she hoped?  a/n: I do not own the outsiders, i only own the made up characters and the plot.
1. My daughter made a man out of you

**1968:**

It had been 5 years since my brother died. It had been 5 years since the whole soc and greaser rivalry died down. It had been 5 years after we did it. And, finally, it had been 4 years since my parents disowned me as a child. To them their only child was murdered.

His tattooed arm covered my shoulder. He dressed up in his uniform and I was in a simple white sundress. My hand on the shoulder of our son in front of us. He was in Khaki's and a white button down shirt with a blue sweater over his shoulders. He looked a lot like Bob, but with a hint of my gorgeous fiancee on the side of me.

My finger touched the doorbell as I waited for a second. The now-brunette answered the door. Her plain coral dress was perfectly ironed and all the joy and fun looked like it was sucked out of her. Her fingers went to her face as she broke down. She pushed passed the little boy and hugged me tightly, never wanting to let me go.

"Sharon...Sharon who's at the door?" the older gentleman walked to the door. His hair was dark brown with gray speckling through it. His face had wrinkled with furrowed eyebrow lines and now frown marks. He looked like he hadn't slept in years.

I thought the reuniting of my parents would have been more hurtful. Like they didn't want to see me, but I was home with open arms.

My father looked passed me and shook Tim's hand. "I see my little girl finally made you into a man." His words were meant to come out cold, but something in his voice sounded happy.

"No, sir." he said, with his famous Shepard smirk. "My son did." As Tim knelt down to his son's height. I looked at my father "This is Robert Timothy Shepard." I said as the little boy held out his hand for the new man to shake.

My father knelt down with a smile "Mind if I tell you a secret?" the older gentleman held up his hand to 'block' out what he was saying to the rest of us. "My name is Robert too, but you can call me papa." he looked up at Tim and I for approval. "If your mommy and daddy agree to it."

"Bobby." My voice was weak as a single tear fell down my cheek. I picked the little boy up as he wiped away the tear. "This is papa and grandma."

"You can call me Glammy. I'm too young and glamorous to be a grandma." My mom piped in as he smiled.

"This is my mommy and daddy." I said as he wiggled to get down.

We went in and had tea and dinner. My dad was amazed with how much growing a "no good hood" did. Which, in all honesty, was a lot. As soon as the war was announced he enlisted. He wasn't sent over right away, he did tours helping out all over the country, but right before the drafting happened, he was sent over. He had come home about 3 months ago. He was shot in the abdomen and was in horrible condition. We came back to Tulsa in search for his family. Angela was delighted to see him, she'd travel to Texas to be with us before he was finally sent off, and even after he was, she'd make sure I was alright. She was married now herself with some kid from Tim's old gang and had 2 kids with the guy. Curly was in jail for robbing someone and beating them nearly to death. We'd yet to visit him, we just went by what Angela told us. His mom ended up dying a couple of weeks after moving to Texas, and since we didn't have a phone for a while, we weren't informed. She had an O.D. After a brutal fight with Tim's step-dad. Angela didn't know how to tell him, so she just didn't.

He made me go and see my family. He told me even if they didn't get over it, that at least I tried.

As dinner was done, I helped my mom clean up the kitchen. "I'm sorry we threw you out of our lives." she said as she began to cry. "Just all the pressure of the media on us since your brother was killed and your dad being a new governor, and Robby just came at a very bad time." she said, as I pulled her into a hug and let her cry. "It's not enough to say I'm sorry, you deserve more than that." she said.

"You know, everything that happened made me learn to hate you." I let out as I felt her breath stop "but I hate myself more knowing I let you guys pass by. I understand what you went through, if Robby got someone knocked up at 17, I don't know what I'd do with myself. And I know you guys didn't approve of Tim cause he was a greaser. But times have changed, and so have we. All that's important now is that Robby finally has grandparents and I have my parents back." I said before flashing her my ring. "Also, I have a wedding to plan and I need daddy to walk me down the isle." I said with a wink, as she hugged me even tighter now. My mom was a loon about these kind of things.

We spent the whole night catching up, Robby had fallen asleep on my father, and everything was how it should've always been. My parents gushed about how Robby looked like Bob, and then they gossiped about everyone.

As Tim put Robby in the car, I looked at my parents. "We're moving back here. When we get married. Texas is too far." I hugged them and kissed them. "I love you guys."

As I walked away, I looked back at the house and remembered 5 years ago like it was yesterday.


	2. I still hate hoods

**1963**

My brother was dead. There was no more pissing him off, yelling at him for beating up greasers, getting drunk, or long talks. No. They took his life.

As I sat in court covered in all black, that's all I thought about. I would of traded my life for his. If it wasn't for that dumb bitch Cherry and leaving with those guys. If it wasn't for the greasers leaving their house that night. If it wasn't for his friends who got him drunk.

It was easy to place the blame on everyone, when in actuality, it was Bob's fault. They wanted to do the same thing to that little greaser with a weird name.

I congratulated them, in a way, standing up to Bob as they did. If it was anyone other than my brother, I'd be thrilled for them.

Listening to all the witnesses go on the stand made the fact sink in even further. He was gone. Just a few days ago, he lived. He loved and was loved. Hell, he even bought Cherry a ring. My parents gave it to her the day everyone found out about his death.

I left the court room and had a cigarette. I had a black hat with a veil that covered my eyes. My mom told me to wear it so no one saw my cry. I lit the cigarette and inhaled the toxins, letting it burn my throat before exhaling.

"The kid's getting self-defense." a husky voice broke my thoughts. I turned to see a pair of blue eyes piercing my skin before obviously checking me out. Did this hood have no shame? I was _obviously _mourning and all he could do was check me out?

"Yeah, I know." I said harshly, before continuing. "I was in the courtroom, seeing as I'm the decease's sister, I came to testify at how drunk he was." I focused my attention back on the barely lit cigarette.

"You know, you guys aren't the only one who lost someone. We lost two, in fact." He said as if he was trying to teach me about something.

I threw my hands up like I was amazed. "Oh boy! You guys are better than us now." I said before throwing my cigarette to the ground and picking my foot up to put it out. I turned on my heel to walk away. I wasn't going back inside, but I wasn't going to stand around this hood anymore.

"Whatever, sweetheart." the voice rang, as you could hear the evil smirk in his words. I heard footsteps from behind me and looking out the corner of my eye, I could see him following me.

Now, I don't know too much about hoods or gangs, but all I know was socials stick with socials and greasers stick with greasers. Almost like the races. If you get stuck with a greaser, you're setting yourself up for doom. So it was rare to see him follow me.

_'He's going to rape me and kill me.' _

The thought was a reoccurring as he kept following me. The stories my brother use to tell me when I was younger flooded my head.

"_Why do you have to beat them up, Bobby?" I was 11 and he was 12. He was waiting for Randy to come over with Paul Holden. I knew damn well there was a class war, but I never understood it._

"_Because, remember Liz White?" Bob said, lacing up his shoes. "We can't let those grease monkeys do that to any other girl." _

_Liz White was a girl who use to go with Paul. One day, she came out that she was pregnant because a greaser had raped her. She went and visited her "aunt" before anyone found out, but when she had to give the baby over, she went insane. She now was in a mental institution. _

_But there was also a rumor going around that it wasn't rape, but she willingly did. No one will ever know for sure, since she was locked up in the looney bin. _

_Bob grabbed my shoulders. "We're just trying to make a safer Tulsa for you, Kota. It might not seem like it now, but we're preventing you from being the next Liz White." he said before kissing her forehead before leaving to beat up greasers._

I started running but ended up tripping on where the curb met grass. I looked up at the man who had a devious grin on his face. "Please, whatever you do, don't rape me. I'll give you all my money I have in my purse, but please!" I pleaded as I saw him laugh at me. I was confused as all hell.

"Please, I wouldn't even think about touching a soc, especially you." he said before throwing a tube of lipstick at me. "You forgot that, sugar." he said before walking away and getting into a real shitty looking truck.

"What the hells that suppose to mean?" I questioned. No one ever said they _wouldn't_ sleep with me. Hell, I was Miss Teenage Tulsa last year and I was head of the cheer-leading squad.

I got up and kept thinking about it, even while walking back in the courtroom. No one ever said no to me.

My head was dizzy by the end of the night thinking about the trial and that damn hood. All I knew were two things: I never wanted to see that hood again and that I still hate hoods.


	3. His name

**December 1963**

"Why the hell are we here? This place is crawling with greasers." I said to the blond on the side of me, she was my best friend in the whole world. She'd been struggling along with me when my brother died. They had dated right before him and Cherry did. She was Randy Anderson's baby sister.

"You said you wanted stuff, right? Well, this is the only place people won't rat us out. Besides, I'm not asking you to sleep with any of them, it's a party, relax." Dani had already been partying all night. She probably smoked something with her brother. He'd been getting into whatever JFK was talking about. Peace corps, or something like that. Like anyone would ever join that.

I wasn't innocent to drugs. I had smoked weed before, and have done it on several occasions. They pass it around at beer blast, and well, when you're drunk, you don't care anymore and you do whatever. Even if it isn't that classy and leaning more on the trashy side.

But this wasn't weed we were talking about. We were here on a search for cocaine or LSD. I haven't tripped before, and really, I didn't want to. It was the new drug of choice, however, so I'd probably go along with it at some point, but it would probably be when I'm long from sober. Cocaine I was alright with. I've seen people do it, and it wasn't as scary.

"Look, that's the guy we're buying from." She pointed to a guy who was playing pool. I couldn't recognize his face, but there was something familiar about him.

"I'm going to get a drink from the bar, want anything?" I asked before a quick jester told me to get one. I stumbled through the crowd feeling like a drunken toddler. I was popular in school, homecoming queen, head cheerleader, great grades, going to the most pristine college in the world next fall. What should I be afraid of, in all honesty? A bunch of hoods that will go nowhere in life and remain in plain old Tulsa? Why do I care if they like me? I have _my _friends and family to like me. God, I'm not Cherry, I don't have an obsession with everyone liking me.

My back straightened as I got to the bar. A slightly older gentleman was grabbing beers out of a fridge. "Excuse me, sir, can I have 2 beers please?" I said, loud enough for him to hear me.

Nothing.

"Hello, sir?" I asked again as he looked at me. "2 beers?" I asked again, this time in full acknowledgment.

"I don't serve women under 18, men under 21." He said as if I didn't know the law. Dani's father was a cop for Christ sake! I know what the limit was.

"Well, I'm 18." I tested back. Okay, I might have been 17, but still, I just wanted a drink.

"Prove it." He said, before I whipped out my cousin's license.

He gave me two beers, but not before I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"I denied your friend and she left." He said, before taking the second beer. I couldn't talk I was so mad. It was the guy from the courtroom.

I checked everywhere in the place and rolled my eyes. She always left if she was pissed off, she didn't care if you weren't there, she'd leave you. It's happened a bunch of times, one time while we were in Texas.

"Of fucking course, she drags me here to pick up and leaves me." I said before I looked at him. "Why'd you deny her?" I was curious, no one ever said no to Dani.

"I'm not dumb, I know who she is." He said with a roll of his eyes. "Chief Anderson's daughter; and I won't put in the slammer for selling to her or you." With his last comment, it made my eyebrow raise. "I know who you are too. Look, I don't need to explain myself to you. I'm leaving." He said before turning around.

I grabbed on to his shoulder before he went into the crowd. "Who are you?" I asked. I felt a bit dizzy and realized quickly I shouldn't of had pre-party cocktails before going out. I tossed my now empty beer on the empty pool table waiting for his answer.

"I'm Jesus fucking Christ." A smirk plastered on his face. It was like looking at the devil. His smirk was hypnotizing. Left you wanting to taste those thin lips.

The taste of cigarettes and beer was a taste that many couldn't handle.

I longed to taste it.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly felt a hand on my ass. I jumped and saw him laughing before I slapped him across the face.

"I would never touch a greaser." I screamed before having him grabbed my ponytail.

"Yeah, well I would never touch a social." his words were supose to sting like venom. Make me want to run for the hills. But for whatever reason, they didn't. They did quite the opposite.

I shouldn't of had pre-party cocktails before going out.

The next thing I knew, he tossed me on a bed that was upstairs from the bar. His lips crashed into mine as his tongue explored my mouth and his hand explored my body. I tried to get up, I was still a virgin, and wanted to remain that way till I was married, but his weight held me down.

"Lift up your skirt." He demanded and I obeyed.

I knew what was going to happen. I knew he was going to take me. I knew, from that moment on, I was going to be 'used goods', especially since I slummed with a greaser.

The only thing I wish I knew was his name.

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><p><strong>AN:**

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